Maybe Someday, Somehow
by cosima-maslany
Summary: Root just wanted an answer. But with or without it, she had to go through the five stages of loss and grief. One by one.
1. Root

You're screaming.  
Or at least you think you are.  
Judging by the way your throat is itching and how you can feel the blood pumping on your neck, you're 99% certain that you're screaming.  
But you can't hear yourself scream.  
In fact, you can't hear anything.  
Neither feel.  
Everything is numb.  
From your head to your toes.  
You think you're crying but...  
Truth is you haven't cried in such a long time so...  
You don't know what crying feels like anymore.  
Mainly because you haven't had a reason to cry but also because that's just not you.  
Just  
not  
you.

You blink once.  
Twice.  
And your throat itches again.  
From the corner of your eyes you can see someone is holding you back.  
You don't really care who but...  
You know why.  
She did it.  
You wanted so bad to hear her say she cares about you but that's just not Sameen.  
Just  
not  
Sameen.  
Instead of saying it...  
She showed you.  
And now?  
She's gone.

* * *

**Denial**

Someone is dragging you to the car.  
Someone opens the door for you.  
Someone.  
You look but it's not Sameen.  
You look around the car but she's not there either.  
You try...  
You push...  
You force your way back but someone holds you again.  
This time you hear yourself talk.  
You tell them Sameen forgot her car keys.  
You need to give her a lift.  
But no one seems to listen.  
Someone points you back to the car and you?  
You get in.  
Your eyes are stuck on the rearview mirror.  
She's probably late.  
You think.  
She'll come to us.  
You think.

Someone starts driving away. Fast.  
And someone falls onto your lap. Bleeding.  
You look down but it's not Sameen.  
You hold him anyway.  
You look up to the mirror and...  
Nothing.  
She'll come.  
To us.  
To you.  
You think.

You don't sleep.  
You try but you can't.  
Sameen still hasn't come.  
Maybe she got lost.  
Maybe she forgot her way back.  
You'll find her.  
You pick up a gun.  
And another.  
You try leaving but a hand touches your shoulder.  
He hands you a mask.  
He says he'll go with you.  
You smile.  
Someone else agrees with you.  
Someone else thinks Sameen is late too.  
There's hope.  
You think.  
She's somewhere.  
You think  
You'll find her.

You blow things up.  
You shoot things.  
Sameen still hasn't come.  
And the clock is ticking.  
She'll be mad you're late to pick her up.  
She's so cute when she's mad.  
You think.  
You hope she gets mad.  
But you'll find her anyway.  
Mad or not.  
She's somewhere.  
You think...  
You'll find her...

* * *

**Anger**

You grip the steering wheel.  
You're late.  
Really late.  
Too late.  
You clench your teeth.  
Not too late.  
Never too late.  
You're just... Late.  
And she'll be mad.  
But it'll be okay.  
You won't stop looking.  
Not when you have a lead.  
There's hope.  
You think.

Everyone keeps lying.  
And you're getting angry.  
But you breathe.  
You changed.  
You're not that person anymore.  
You don't do that.  
You repeat that to yourself.  
One, two, five times.  
But you don't believe it.  
Not now.  
You're angry.  
And you won't hold it anymore.  
You feel the way that drill is hurting that woman.  
But you don't care.  
Do you?  
They have her.  
Her.  
And you care about her.  
Her.  
Not this woman.  
Not anyone in that town.  
Just... Her.  
But you take it back.  
Because you changed.  
They changed you.  
For good.  
So did she.

You're still angry.  
But you keep it in.  
You're not that person anymore.  
You don't do that.  
You repeat that to yourself.  
One, two, five times.  
But they lied to you again.  
And you can't hold it anymore.  
You just can't.  
This time you don't scream.  
You don't blink.  
You just pull the trigger.  
You don't even see who you're shooting at.  
You just do it.  
You just want her back.  
You just want to stop being angry.  
You just want Sameen to be mad at you for being late.  
But you're wasting time.  
Precious time.  
Being angry when you should be looking.  
So you stop.

* * *

**Bargain**

You're hopeless.  
And you're full of hope.  
All at the same time.  
All together.  
All in one.  
He's talking to you.  
But you only want her to talk to you.  
And you know that she knows.  
She knows if Sameen is alive.  
But she's not telling you.  
And he isn't telling you either.  
But he doesn't know.  
He would tell you if he did.  
You exhale.  
You're ready to bargain.  
You're ready to trade.  
You're ready to beg.  
And you do.

Because you know that she knows.  
And you know Sameen is alive.  
You just need an answer.  
Something.

The phone rings.  
She's talking.  
Your hope grows.  
Your heart beats fast.  
He smiles.  
You stop breathing.

She's alive.  
You think.  
You'll find her.  
You think.

Sierra.  
Tango.  
Oscar.  
Papa.

He hands you the phone.  
And it's the same thing.  
Over and over again.  
Over.  
And.  
Over.  
Again.  
You can't believe her.  
She knows you won't stop.  
Why is she asking you to stop.  
You ask.  
Over and over again.

He tells you maybe it's all part of a plan.  
Maybe.  
He tells you it's for the best.  
For you, for him, for everyone.  
For your survival.  
But that's just it.  
You just survive without her.  
And survive isn't good enough for you.  
What about Sameen.  
What about her survival.  
You ask.

But you have to go.  
You have to think.  
You have to focus.  
For you, for him, for everyone.  
And especially, for her.

* * *

**Depression**

You stay away.  
From everyone.  
For a while.  
As long as it takes to feel again.  
And little by little.  
You do.  
Sameen would call you a baby if she knew.  
You smile.  
You miss her.  
Everyday.  
Everywhere.

You can't go back.  
Not yet.  
You need a little more time.  
One night you go to her place.  
It's so empty.  
More than usual.  
You lay on her bed.  
She'd kill you if she knew.  
But you wouldn't mind.  
At least she'd be around.  
You cry.  
Again.  
And this time.  
You feel it.  
Her pillow still smells like her.  
Pancakes and gunpowder.  
Sometimes she smells like rain too.  
You smile.  
Sameen would never settle for being rain.  
She'd be a tornado.  
Or a storm.  
One with thunder.  
You miss her so much.  
Everyday.  
Everywhere.

And for the first time in days...  
You sleep.  
And you dream about her.  
She's smiling.  
And that's good enough for you.

* * *

**Acceptance**

The machine talks to you sometimes.  
You wonder if she's just trying to keep you busy.  
Giving you stuff to do.  
Here and there.  
Places to be.  
People to save.  
People to kill.  
She's giving you missions that would make you happy.  
Work that you like to do.  
And you do it.  
For her.

You travel.  
For her.

You save.  
For her.

But sometimes you wonder if she knows.  
Because you think she doesn't know.  
She keeps you busy but..  
She doesn't talk to you.  
Not anymore.  
It isn't that she doesn't want to.  
She just can't.  
And because of that, you keep thinking.  
About Sameen.  
About missing Sameen.

You asked everyone not to talk about her.  
Not with you.  
Or near you.  
Because you're trying to accept the reality.  
That you're late.  
And she's lost.  
And she won't come to you.  
You want to accept that.  
It's easier.  
It hurts less.  
So you avoid talking about Sameen.  
To accept it.

Sometimes you eat her favorite things.  
Sameen would stab your hand if she knew.  
You smile.  
Truth is, you grew fond of pancakes.  
And your stomach isn't strong enough for those sandwiches.  
But you do it anyway.  
And yet, you can't help thinking about Pandora's box.  
Because as much as you accept the storm.  
And the pain.  
And the misery.  
And the war.  
There's still hope.

Hope that..

Somehow...  
She's somewhere...  
And you'll find her...  
Or she'll find you.

And if that doesn't happen.  
It won't be okay.  
But you'll survive.  
Somehow.


	2. Shaw

**A/N: **Remember when I wrote that thing about Root? This is kind of the same but for Shaw. Only difference is that it's not the stages of loss/grief but a little insight of her time in Samaritan's torture chambers.

* * *

You sigh.  
You don't know which day it is.  
But you know it has been more than a week.  
Maybe a month.  
Month and a half.  
You honestly don't know.  
All you know is that it's starting to hurt.

You're starting to question what's the point of fighting it.  
Maybe you should just let go.  
You think.  
Maybe it'll be easier if you let go.  
You think.  
But then you remember her.  
You remember Root.  
And you focus on her.

The way she smiles when the Machine talks to her.  
How she looks fearless with two guns.  
But how she melts when someone treats her right.  
When you treat her right.  
And you have to fight this.  
If not for you, for them.  
All of them.  
Including Root.

Another day goes by.  
You're restless.  
This time she abused it.  
She abused you.  
She pushed your boundaries so far that you're unsure where your limits are.  
She mentioned Root.  
And you looked up to her with fire in your eyes.  
You shouldn't have.  
She noticed it.  
She'll use it against you.  
Why did you have to look up to her?  
Why?

Two more days fly by your wounded skin.  
And your damaged soul aches.  
Your eyes hurt so much.  
You can barely keep them open.  
But you look up and you see her.  
_Her._  
_Root._  
Why is she walking towards you with a drill in her hands?  
She points it at your hand and you scream.

You beg her too stop.  
You beg Root to stop.  
Why would she ever hurt you like this?  
She apologizes and her voice doesn't sound the same.  
But maybe it's just you.  
Maybe it's just the time you spent away from her.  
You call her an idiot.  
You tell her to give you a break from her ridiculous foreplay.  
And you fall asleep.  
And for the first time in a month and a half, you actually sleep.

Root is awfully quiet.  
And she isn't touching you as much.  
Maybe she's scared you'll break.  
You tell her she's creeping you out.  
She tells you she's just scared to hurt you.  
It doesn't sound like Root.  
But you believe her, anyway.

Root is asking weird questions.  
Questions you know she'd know the answer.  
But you answer her anyway.  
Maybe she's just trying to see if they didn't brainwash you.  
Or if you still remember everything.  
Which you do.  
Every little detail.  
It really doesn't sound like Root.  
But you believe her, anyway.

You open your eyes.  
And they don't burn as much.  
You can see clearly.  
You're still in that bed.  
In that room.  
With that monitor.  
You arch your eyebrow.  
Something isn't right.  
You look beside you and there's a phone.  
You pick it up.  
You look around and you see her.  
But...  
It isn't Root.  
It was never Root.  
They played you for a fool and you fell for it.  
You need to call her.  
You need to call Root.

And you do.

But they catch you.

And you tell them she'll come for you.  
You tell them everything she'll do to get you back.  
They drug you and they extract you from the building.  
You assume Root is there.  
You can feel her presence around.  
You smirk when you get in the car.  
You told her everything Root would do to get you back.  
But you forgot to mention something...

_If you mention me or touch Root with the same hands you used to torture me, she'll snap your life away from you with her bare hands without wasting a second to think about it._


End file.
